Today is Amos's first full day of daycare. I am very excited about this new development in our lives, but I am also anxious. As I was thinking about what I hope of Amos's teacher, I realized that maybe there are some correlations between that and what God wants for me as a pastor.
1. Patience. Anyone who spends all day every day working with one and two-year-olds probably has a lot of patience. But I'm afraid that Amos's teacher will get impatient sometimes with him--with ways that he is behind developmentally, routines and customs that all the other kids know that he hasn't learned yet, his adjustment to different expectations of him. I know he'll learn, but in the meantime, I hope that his teacher is really patient with him and gives him time to adjust.
I came across a thought-provoking blog the other day here. The author said, in short, that too often the people we want in churches are the ones who have been "fixed up" somewhere else and are sent to us "pre-packaged." As a pastor, do I have the same patience with new Christians as I hope Amos's teacher does of new students? What if they are developmentally delayed--don't speak "Christian-ese," lose their temper easily, struggle with the most simple Christian tasks like finding a book of the Bible? What if they don't know the customs, like being quiet during prayer or answering questions with the appropriate combination of openness and reservation? What if they don't live up to my expectations of them? Will I be patient? Will I give them time to learn and adjust? Or will I get angry and frustrated?
2. Listening. Sometimes the straw thing on Amos's water bottle comes out of its little connector hole. I'm not sure why it's designed like that (maybe for cleaning?), but it upsets him greatly whenever it happens. Will his teacher know that when he holds his water bottle full of water up to her and makes upset noises that he needs her to fix it? I hope that she takes the time to listen to his concern and figure out what's wrong, so she can help him. I'm afraid she'll just think he's making some kind of ridiculous request for more water when he clearly already has some.
One of my favorite sayings is, "The issue is never the issue." When someone comes to me upset about something, it may be that what I said really isn't the issue. There may be something much deeper going on. I think that as a pastor, I am called to listen beyond their words and hear their concerns, their past experiences, their grief, their hurts. I hope that I can listen to people who, even though they can talk, struggle just as much as Amos does to communicate their true needs.
3. Seeing. Even though Amos doesn't talk, I know him well enough to understand his feelings most of the time. Sometimes he gets in a mood that we call the "Amos tornado." He just goes through the house randomly destroying things--taking things out of the trash, throwing things on the floor, opening drawers and cabinets, clearing off tables. Usually, he's just hungry. If I say, "Amos, do you want to eat supper now?" he stops immediately and comes to his chair to sit down and eat. But it's not at all obvious to anyone who doesn't know him that he's clearing off end tables because he's hungry.
As a pastor, I know I can't pick up on every single nonverbal cue of every congregant. However, I want to know my people well enough to perceive when someone is having a bad day, or is depressed, lonely, upset, angry, or whatever. I want to take the time to get to know people, and I want to continue to take the time to see them as they are.
4. Protecting. It's okay for Amos to learn about social interaction through conflict. However, I expect Amos's teacher to not let a stranger leave school with him. I expect her to not place him in situations that are beyond his ability to navigate safely. I also hope that she helps guide him through conflict, teaching him skills for interacting with his peers.
As a pastor, I know I can't protect the people in my congregation from the difficulties that life throws at them. However, there are things I can protect them from. I don't need to pass along every negative comment that I hear. I can preach in a way that keeps the focus on God and the Scriptures; they don't need to hear every thought I have as I prepare my sermons. If I have a negative experience with the church leadership above me, I don't need to pass that on to my congregation. I also need to pray fervently over my congregation, to stand alongside them as they battle all the difficulties that come their way.
5. Feeding. I do mean this literally. I hope that Amos gets enough to eat at daycare and that it's somewhat healthy. But I also mean it metaphorically. I hope that he gets lots of new experiences. That he's learning new songs, meeting new people, learning new words. He came home from his first afternoon already signing "more." I would never take him to a daycare that felt like a holding cell. The scenes of the daycare in the movie The Pursuit of Happyness have haunted me for years--graffiti on the doors, kids zoned out in front of the tv, kids fighting. I hope that Amos's time at daycare pours life into him, rather than sucking it out of him. I hope that his teacher works to feed him.
As a pastor, I want the time that people spend at church on Sunday morning to be more than carrying out a lifelong sentence to spend four thousand hours at church. I want to make the effort to put time into what I do, so that I can pour life into my congregation, rather than sucking it out of them. I know that God is working, and that it's not all about my effort or what I do, but I still want to use everything I have to feed my congregation the Word of God, so that their time at church adds to their life, teaches them something new, helps them grow, expands their understanding of the world. Again, I can't do this on my own, but I also can't do it without working at it.
6. Loving. I love Amos so much. It's hard for me to leave him in a place where people don't love him like I do. But I expect that his teacher does come to love her kids, to care for them, to not just do her job out of obligation.
It stops me in my tracks to think about how much I love Amos and how hard it is to entrust him to someone else. God loves his children the same way. Of course, God doesn't leave us completely in the hands of other people, but it makes me realize how deeply I am called to love and care for my congregation. I need to have the same expectations of myself that I do of Amos's teacher: to look past Amos's faults and difficulties and to see a wonderful, sweet little boy that desperately wants to be loved. And so I am called also to look past the faults and difficulties of the people in my congregation and see the beautiful children of God who desperately want to be loved.
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| Who wouldn't love this kid? |
3 comments:
wow, i want you to be my pastor! this is very deeply true.
Marissa this is so beautiful! I loved all of it, but some of my favorites were...
- the "Amos Tornado" and how it just means he's hungry
- the part about the teacher thinking Amos is making "some kind of ridiculous request for more water when he clearly already has some," HAAAA ha ha
- and the part about Sunday morning being more than "carrying out a lifelong sentence to spend four thousand hours at church"
Oh man, so much hilariosity but also so much truth. It's very helpful to me as I'm now babysitting for millions of family, and also it's such good insight for just interacting with people in general, even if we all aren't official pastors. :)
Liz - I want to be your pastor! Come to our church! :-D
Tracy - Thanks! I loved your babysitting posts when you were on Facebook. It sounded like you were pretty great at your job. :-)
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